


Back to the Beginning

by MyRegardstotheReader



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco and Harry are friends, Draco can remember the past, Draco goes back in time, Draco malfoy tells the story, Friends to Lovers, Multi, POV Draco Malfoy, Voldemort is kinda dead, voldemort didn't kill the potters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-04-29 03:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14464494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyRegardstotheReader/pseuds/MyRegardstotheReader
Summary: What if Voldemort was murdered within his sixth year? What if Draco found a time-turner and did just that? In the despair after the war, Draco finds a time-turner amongst the rubble. If he could just stop it all before it began, then maybe life would be different. He can live with the knowledge that he murdered someone, as long as it was Tom Riddle. Waking up in a new life that he slowly uncovers is vastly different from his first, Draco must adapt to new things. Harry Potter being his best friend, The Weasley's and the Malfoy's being neighbors, Hermione Granger being Head girl while he is Head boy, and more. Life is good... for the moment, as Draco soon realizes he did not go back far enough. A mysterious Journal falls into the lap of Iris Martin, a hufflepuff that Draco has become closer to by the day. As the school year presses on and his old life haunts his dreams, stress of being head boy and a good son, only to find... Voldemort is back. And He remembers exactly who killed him last time.





	1. The horrors of War

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, the new harry potter app got me cooking up new ideas in the HP fandom. Hope yal love this as much as I do. <3

Draco found it just lying there on the ground. There was only two people standing there, staring at it. Left to wander the grounds, 7th years were like ghosts, staring at the rubble that was their former home. Draco especially, seeing things he helped escalate. Things he should have never joined. There were plenty of things he wished he hadn’t done. There were things he wished he never thought of. If only he could go back and change it. Stop himself, stop potter, stop Voldemort. Change it all, make it better. That’s when he saw it. Then he saw her. 

Tattered and torn robes, a shredded Hufflepuff scarf, dust and ash across her face. The bridge of her nose had a deep gash, blood-caked and dried. There were tears trailing her cheeks. What Draco saw clearer was the blood that dried over her hands. Hands she once held a dying classmate with. One was broken, he could tell by the bruising and purple skin, bones in odd places. She fought. With every fiber of her being, he could tell she fought. And she lost. Friends or family… 

“It’s a time-turner.” She spoke first, her voice raw and scratchy. Obviously from crying. “You should take it.”

“What?” He blurted out, catching her eye. That’s when Draco realized what corpse of a person was staring back at him. One of her eyes was completely glazed over and it's iris transparent. There was a deep scar across her brow and stopped just short of her cheeks. Something her burnt bangs had covered up till now. “Iris… Iris Martin.”

“Draco, take it.” She spoke louder now, bending down to snatch it up. It was apart of the rubble but still completely intact. Everything about it screamed brand new. Yet everything around them screamed war. Death and war. Iris Martin took the brunt force of it, by the looks of it. Lost friends, lost her right eye, broke her hand, and even her heart. Because despite her eye being shot and ruined, Draco saw the heartbreak in them. Her emotions so clear on her sleeve. A sleeve that fell off her person as she outstretched her hand. 

Iris Martin was a 7th year Hufflepuff. Her father was an Auror, Draco saw her often at Ministry parties with her parents. Once they stood by the wall, muttering about stiff wigged parties being no fun. The only memory he had of a classmate was of them playing wizard’s chess in the back of a ministry party. Her smile was so bright. 

This war he had a part of destroyed that smile. Destroyed a pretty face and any chance she had at a normal life. What was normal after this, anyway?

“What would I do with it?”

“Go back, to the beginning… and stop it.” She swallowed hard.

“If you want it, do it.” Draco barked, stepping back.

“You’re the only one who can!” She cried out, stepping towards him. Draco’s heart raced as she shoved the time turner towards him again. 

“Give it to Potter, the hero!”

“He wouldn’t kill him.” Draco’s heart sank into his feet as he realized what reputation preceded him here. Killing Dumbledore was on his shoulders. He had not been the one to kill Dumbledore, yet they all believed it. No one outside of that room knew Draco had not. Snape was dead, Dumbledore was dead, a lot of people were dead. And yet he held the label of a killer. 

“What should I do?” Draco whispered, reaching out to take her hand with both of his. Her working hand shook tremendously. Her skin was on fire, obviously fighting off pain and shock. 

“If you kill him, he can never hurt you.” Her voice trembled so much it made Draco shake. It wasn’t till tears fell down his face, that he even realized he was crying. His body shook hard, unable to meet her eye. She took back her hand, leaving the time turner in his hand. 

Take out the darkest wizard in all creation? 

If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t that bad. Draco would live with the knowledge that he killed Voldemort before he ever became Voldemort. He could sleep at night knowing if he had to kill one person… it would be him. No more torture, no more dead friends and family, no more him. What would the world be like if Voldemort never happened?

And so he threw the golden chain around him and stepped back from Iris Martin. She stepped back, watching him with worry painted on her marred face. Draco began to twist it back, doing the math within his head. If it was wrong, he would merely keep it going till he got it right. Twenty…. Thirty… until he stopped counting and let it go. 

The world rewound and it kept going. He watched people come back to life, he watched the castle reform, it all fixed itself. Then people came and went, death-eaters disappeared, the school began to change. Seasons overhead went in fast reverse. Before his mind could wrap around it, it was nighttime. Draco stepped out over the grass of the castle, wand out. His suit was still in tatters and his hair smudged with ash. He never gave thought to what would happen after this, until it was too late. 

This was the only way.

Following his mind to the dungeons, skidding around the school. He could not be seen. Thankfully, a glance to the sky revealed it was close to three am. No soul should be awake, let alone walking around. Everything was so familiar yet so strange as he stepped up to the dungeon stairwell. He did not have a password, but there had been many nights he broke into the common room without one. Being prefect was nice, but often made one too tired and wiped of energy to remember. Draco stood against the portrait and ran his wand along the seam of it. The grooves of the frame reminded him of his first day here. Pride surged through him then, so young and naive of the horrors. How he felt so on top of the world. Godly almost. 

Draco lingered over a table, looking to the paperwork of a slumbering Slytherin. The date on the parchment stood out in his mind. February 3rd, 1944. This would have been Tom Riddle’s sixth year. All he needed was to know where Tom slept. He could murder him in his sleep. That way he didn’t have to feel guilty. 

“Malfoy, What are you doing out of bed?… who are you?” 

That voice, it was familiar, but far away. A soft version of a voice that often haunted his dreams. In the blink of an eye, he found himself face to face with the demon at the back of his mind. The man, the monster, the wizard who started it all. The timing couldn't be more perfect. Draco had no time, he could not stop to stare at the student who moved at the table. His father. He had no time to stare at his father. If he did not act fast, this would never work. The spell was like hot acid in his stomach, it sat on his tongue. His teeth on edge, Draco whipped around. 

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

The world went dark. His ears popped so hard he believed he’d gone deaf. His throat ran dry and his stomach clenched down hard. Everything was pitch black, but for some reason, he felt at ease. Floating in an abyss, unable to see, but able to feel. Relaxed, comfortable, lulled to lie back longer. A deep sleep that evaded him for the last two years of his life. It felt so good to sleep.

The world was soft, and he was at ease. Like he was surrounded by soft cotton pillows and a cloud of a blanket.

Had it all been a dream? Had he died? 

“Draco? Honey… Draco, sweetheart, wake up.” The delicate murmur of his mother’s voice broke through the abyss. A warm butter knife slicing through his abyss swiftly and calmly. Light trickled into his eyes. Blinking hard, Draco finally came out of the world. 

Had it been a dream? As he was obviously alive. He looked to his hands, still feeling the vibrations of the spell against his skin. The dryness in his throat was real, but he did not feel dirty. The ash of the war had not stained his skin. In Fact, he looked freshly washed, as if he hopped into bed after a long shower. 

Bed? Draco jumped a bit in his skin, looking over the sheets in surprise. His sheets! His bed! His room! Draco looked to his mother and his heart fluttered. She looked… the same as when she did before school. Before any of it. Beautiful and fresh-faced, and … “Draco? Are you alright?”

It worked… the spell changed everything. Because Draco was still 17 and… he was still home… and there was no stench of Voldemort anywhere. 

“I am… fantastic.” Draco whispered, breathlessly, and he smiled. It felt so foreign to smile. 

“Well hurry up and dress then Draco. Harry is due to be here any minute. You know how ridiculous he is at dressing for events like these. He will need all your help.”

Her chirp was warm like baked apples. A scent filled the air, a lavender scent like he were sat out in a field, fresh air on his face. His mother stopped wearing perfume around Voldemort as he snarled over it constantly. But she wore it now! She smelt like heaven.

“Events? … Potter?” Draco’s heart jumped beats, the information raising alarms in his head.

“Yes, Harry Potter. You’ve only been friends with him for six years, Draco. And don’t try and play it off. You and I both know it’s the ministry ball. Come on and get up, lazy bones. Unless you want Harry to find you in your knickers.” His mother teased, poking him in the shoulder. Draco blinked rapidly as it all began to come to light. 

He killed Voldemort. He murdered the darkest wizard of all time. Had it really changed the world so much that he… and Harry Potter… had become friends? Close enough friends that his mother let him into their home? The ministry ball! It was the weekend before school starts! That meant… it was just before their 7th year. 

The image of Iris Martin played in his mind, the desperate look in her eyes as he put on the time-turner. Had it been a dream? Had this been the real reality? The answer came in the image of the time turner. It was clutched in his hand, the chain tickling his wrist. 

Draco Malfoy changed the whole world.

So why was he still haunted with an uneasy feeling in his stomach? It had to be the war, it had to be the life. Images he could remember, pieces of the horror that was his old life. And not that he had not gone back far enough… to stop Voldemort from ever coming back. It was definitely not that. 

“MALFOY! Seriously, mate. Don’t you ever wear pants?”

“Potter! Don’t you ever knock, you barbarian!” Draco’s voice boomed, bouncing off the walls as he rushed to yank on a discarded pair of trousers. Harry Potter stood in his doorway, howling with laughter as he desperately clung to the frame.


	2. Among the people

Chapter one: Among the people

Draco straightened out his suit as the floo powder died down the bright green flames. The ministry’s main entrance was eerily empty. Even on the weekends, it was always bustling with people. However, the event for tonight made everyone go home soon. All employees of the ministry were invited to come to a ball held in a massive ballroom at the ministry the last saturday before school started. It was to celebrate family, togetherness, and diplomacy. Everyone dressed in their best attire and danced to soft music and ate food catered from all sorts of places in the world. It was the only event where everyone was equal. Co-workers and bosses were on the same level. People from all departments and their families could be together and act like the politics didn’t matter. Just for one night.

Draco turned back to see Harry step out of the fireplace as well, straightening himself out. “I will never like Floo travel.” He huffed.

“Potter, would you much rather use a broom. Good luck getting insects out of your suit.” Draco teased without even thinking on it. In this new life, they were friends. In this new life- No… in his true life. Because this is how life is supposed to be. Draco found himself smiling as Harry rolled his eyes. 

“At least I can fly a broom properly.” Harry shot back. “Unlike someone who flies around like a rooster, strutting and showing off his feathers.”

“You wound me, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out to jokingly punch Harry in the shoulder. It was strange. It felt so surreal, to stand there, fake punching at each other in coat tailored suits, and shooting words back at each other. Not in the bathroom, shooting spells and pain at each other. Draco could still see the horror on Harry’s face as the Gryffindor stood over him bleeding out on the floor. 

“Whoa? We’re ganging up on Malfoy? I want in!” Draco whipped around just in time to miss a fake tackle by none other than Ronald Weasley.

“What are you doing, Weaslebee?” Draco snarled, jerking away to the left.

“Oh, Har-har, Malffle.” Weasley huffed, rolling his eyes. “I get stung by a bee on a broom once, and you can’t let it go.”

Draco blinked rapidly as Harry jumped to Ron’s side and ruffled his hair. Harry and Ron were smiling, fake slapping at each other and dancing out of the way of the other. Ron … weasley… was friendly with him? Ron Weasley? The same ginger-haired wizard who hated him more than Harry Potter. Draco was barely wrapping his head around Harry, but Ron on top of it was more than he could process. 

“Come on, Malfoy. Lighten up. It’s your big night.” Ron laughed, slapping Draco on the bicep.

“My big night?” Draco whispered, his throat dry suddenly.

“Head boy? Big Announcement-”

Malfoy froze over like a statue. His heart stopped and the world churned slow. He said Head boy. Ronald Weasley called Draco Malfoy Head boy.

“Ron!” Harry warned. Arms crossed over his chest, he lightly kicked Ron’s foot.“They obviously didn’t tell him yet.”

“Oh bloody hell, Mate, I’m sorry. I thought you knew! You know everything!” Ron’s face went up in flames fast, hands out like white flags. Draco’s eyebrows shot up high. Head boy? He was… head boy? How did he manage that? Being prefect only came around because… but here… in the new world, his real world, he was head boy. Draco was breathless as he turned from the too. 

“This is unreal.” He muttered. 

“Are you serious? I could have seen that coming a mile away, you’re Dumbledore’s golden boy!” Ron laughed. A clapped hand to his shoulder, Draco was wheeled to look at the two of them. “Come on, just… you know… act surprised when they announce it. Mum will slaughter me if she finds out I ruined it for you.”

“Oh… sure… of course…” Draco blinked, looking to Harry. Harry’s face lit up brightly, arms still crossed and head cocked. Pride was written all over his face. Draco Malfoy was Dumbledore’s golden boy? Had Draco turned all the table upside down? Was this all he had to do? Everything he wanted: Head Boy, good grades, pride, notoriety, everything was right here at his hands. If Draco wasn’t still uneasy about the feeling inside him, he would have suggested he killed Voldemort earlier. 

He still felt off. That spell left a lasting effect on his skin. Like thick film over his skin, itching him and stabbing at him at times. He never thought that it would affect him like this. 

“Boys, are you quite done?” Draco snapped to life, looking up to his mother as she climbed through the fireplace, a woman beside her. A woman that Draco did not recognize till Harry turned around. 

“Just being boys, Mrs. Malfoy.” Harry laughed, he stepped forward and took the unfamiliar woman’s outstretched hand. “Mum, you never did answer me earlier.”

“Because I’m not done thinking about it.” She cocked a brow down at him. “My son’s last year of school and he wants to leave his mother at home and travel by himself with his best friend in? How could you break my heart like that?”

“Mum, you’re just being dramatic.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

Draco felt all the color drain from his face. Harry was no orphan here. His parents were alive. His mother was right there. All red hair and bright eyes, tall like Narcissa Malfoy, and just as elegant. “Draco, is this true? Were you going to not tell me?” 

Narcissa shot a look to Draco. He feigned a smile, though it was sheepish as he shrugged. “I forgot that was the plan.”

“Well I’m with Lily here, you two are not to deny us this last opportunity. Besides, I doubt Molly is allowing Ron to go alone.”

Draco looked to Ron who sighed. “I wish.” He muttered under his breath. 

“Well then, let’s pretend like you didn’t suggest it and go into the party. Merlin knows your father is out there embarrassing us both. Your god-father is most likely making it worse.” Lily rolled her eyes, patting Harry on his head. Draco was unable to move as Ron and Harry followed after Lily Potter. Lily Potter was alive. That meant Harry wasn’t the chosen one. That meant that Harry grew up with both his parents. That meant…

“Draco? Darling… are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, fine.” Draco smiled up to his mother, shaking off the train of thought. It would not lead to anything at this moment. He was allowed to exist and to just be. Draco was finally able to be a teenager. Not a pawn in a war. Not a death eater playing student. Not public enemy number one. Draco Malfoy could be himself and nothing else.

It was weird to think, but he hadn’t realized how relieving that was till he heard it pass through his head.

“Well, go on, join your friends. Do not go too wild, you are still here to uphold the Malfoy name.”

Draco didn’t know what upholding the Malfoy name meant anymore. But he was actually eager to find out. “Of course, you know me, I will be the best one in there.”

“That’s my Draco.” Narcissa smiled down at him, cupping his cheeks. Draco allowed her to place a soft kiss to his hair. Her eyes were so full of pride and love. It had been so long since he’d seen her look at him that way. Draco smiled back, holding back tears. Because this Draco didn’t need to cry. Not over his mother or his father, not over himself. Because this Draco was head boy, and safe, and the next Malfoy to make the family proud. And this Draco did not have to murder his headmaster to keep them safe.

Draco walked into the ballroom and was instantly brought into the moment. Music playing, people swayed and laughed and talked. Everything was thick of emotions that grounded him to this life. The ballroom was massive, the size of the grounds of Hogwarts, easily bigger or atleast the same size. High vaulted ceiling, stained glass that painted a picture of unity and work through magic. A fountain at the center lit up multiple colors are creatures seemed to spin up into the air then plunk back down into the water. There were so many people, two stages, and endless rows of food and drink along the walls.

“Wow.” He jerked to his left, looking in the direction of the voice. “You clean up nice, Malfoy.”

He almost didn’t recognize her. No glossed over eye, no scars or broken hand. Iris Martin looked… alive. Happy, alive, and stunning. Long strawberry blonde hair in loose curls that fell around her like a curtain. 

“As do you, Martin.” He teased, stepping up closer. She looked… better. Way better, than he could ever remember. They had been children the last time he remembered talking to her. Now… 

“Oh, please don’t use my last name. I hate it.” She let out a small snort. She stood near the back wall as always. But now she stood away from it, sauntering towards him. Draped in a mixture of silk and sheer fabric, her dress fit her like a glove. An Italian glove with crystals and lace that made you want to look over it for hours. 

“Perhaps you prefer Malfoy?” Draco stated only to blink and clamp his mouth shut. A moment of panic filled his brain. Smoke filled his mind as he scrambled to find a way to excuse him from the situation. He did not know this girl! He just… She was…

“I might be convinced.” She laughed softly, pink shading her cheeks. His mouth hung open just an inch as she smiled and shrugged softly.“You’re in a flirty mood this evening, Draco.”

“I apologize, I-”

“Draco.” His mouth shut fast, eyes wide. The last time he talked to her, she called him a murderer. In a sense. More or less. Told him to go murder the dark lord. “Thank you. Honestly, thank you. To have you compliment me like that, I feel better about wearing this dress. Mother picked it out and I didn’t think… I could...well..”

“Pull it off? Because I gladly will for you.” Draco felt the rasp in his voice trickle out. Was Draco in this life a flirt? Was Draco not afraid to talk to girls? Because old Draco was, they always glared at him. They thought he was horrible and mean and … Did this Draco talk to Iris? Were they friends?

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I should keep it on.” She blushed harder, arms folding behind her. “Besides, now all I can imagine is you in this dress.”

Draco let out a booming laugh, his hands to his sides. “You have to admit, I could pull it off.”

Her smile grew ten-fold as she let out a laugh of her own. Her hands went to her lips, laughing hard that tears welled up in her eyes. It was the first time he’d seen her laugh this hard. So hard she let out a tiny snort that only made her giggle harder. Her laugh warmed his insides. It almost erased the image of her shredded and heartbroken. That tattered mess in the back of his mind was not the Iris Martin he saw before him. 

“With that attitude, Draco, you could pull off anything.”

She replied with a gasp of air.

“I would suggest trying it, but my mother may cry if she sees me in a dress.” Draco beamed, seeing Iris laugh harder, her hands falling to her sides. She almost stumbled over but caught herself, gasping for air. Her gloved hands cupped her sides to show off the shimmer in her hair and along her biceps. Glitter that was soft gold and silver sprinkled over her hair and along her skin, he only saw now that he stood closer. 

“If I had known you were this funny, I would have been friends with you sooner.” Iris giggled, hands clenched on her sides. A relief filled him to know that she and he weren't friends. He didn't have to figure out a history with them, he didn't have to play at amnesia to understand how they got to this point. A fresh slate. 

“Oh, no you wouldn’t have. This bloke here was a proper twat most of our school year.” Draco whirled to see Ron grinning ear to ear. Ron stepped up, extending a hand to Iris. She was sobering up from her giggles, then she slapped it. 

“Weasley, don’t you have something better to do?” Draco huffed, arms crossed.

“No, I don’t.” Ron answered, smiling back to Draco. “Harry was worried you fell into a toilet or something.”

“Aww, how cute, he worries about you.” Iris smiled, stepping up to Draco. “I should go see what my parents are up to anyway. See you later?”

Draco couldn’t think of anything clever or witty. She smiled at him, blushed as she brushed a hand across his shoulder. She wasn’t scared of him. So many were scared of him. The old Draco isolated himself. Here he was surrounded by people who talked to him even if he didn’t talk to them. 

“Of course.” Draco found his body moving on its own. He swept up her hand and brushed a kiss along her knuckles. “Save me a dance." Iris left with her hands wringing in front of her, red all over her cheeks. Yet Ron remained, eyebrows raised to the very top of his forehead and mouth open. “Do close your mouth, Weasley. You will catch flies.”

“You were so smooth! How did you even … all you did was…” Ron was speechless, his eyes lingering on Iris’ retreating form. She was now across the room, chatting up with her parents. Draco smirked to himself. This life was far better than the last. 

“Just because you’re as dense as the forest, doesn’t mean I am, Weaslebee. Maybe try talking to a girl.” Draco laughed, patting Ron as he brushed past him. 

“Whoa, I talk to girls.” Ron defended, storming after Draco. Draco headed towards Harry who was now near the refreshment table. Sirius Black was next to him. Laughing and bolstering something, his voice was loud but his words were muffled by the other conversations. 

“Your mother and sister do not count.” Draco countered, shooting Ron another look. Ron huffed, pinching up his face. Draco couldn’t help the grin plastered to his lips. The happy feeling within him the filled him to the brim. So this is what real friends were like? He never imagined he would consider Ronald Weasley a friend, but here he was. Ron smirked, landing a fake punch to his shoulder. 

“You may be better at flirting, but I will still floor you on the Quidditch field.”

“In your dreams, Weasley!” Draco laughed, landing a punch back to Ron’s shoulder. 

“What is Ron dreaming about?” Harry chuckled, a fuzzy brown eyebrow cocked up. At some point he saw the two, as he was now just a foot away. 

“Malfoy seriously thinks he is better at Quidditch than me.” Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I mean, he is.” Harry snickered, “But he’s not better than me.”

“Oh, you’re better than me, Potter?” Draco laughed. “Should we settle this on the field, then?”

“Bring it on!” Harry lunged just enough to ruffle Draco’s hair. Draco let out a huff, ruffling Harry’s hair twice as hard. They were laughing and going back and forth and Draco was just bathing in it. This happy feeling that floated around them. They quieted down when Lily came around a group of people and shot the boys a look. Narcissa was on her right, giving the same look. Draco sobered up his laughter quickly. Especially when he saw Molly Weasley come up from a crowd of women. Dressed in a simple, but elegant gown. Unlike the one Narcissa wore, or even Iris’ own gown, but still nice. Some things you can’t change. 

“Narcissa, neighbor, there you are.” 

Draco reminded himself not to blurt out the surprise. Molly and Narcissa exchanged curt hugs and kisses to the cheeks. Molly smiled to Lily, giving her the same exchange. “Molly, my dear, where have you been? Narcissa and I have been looking for you.”

“Sorry, Arthur was trying to show me something new. You know how he gets.” Molly laughed, hands to her sides. 

“Boys, why don’t you go do something decent and ask someone to dance. This is a ball, afterall.” Narcissa shot the three of them a look.

“Draco’s already got a dance partner, Poor Harry and I are the ones who need some.” Ron let out a snort.

“Oh? Does he really now?” Narcissa cocked a brow at Draco. 

“Iris Martin.” Ron threw Draco completely into the line of fire. Draco shot Ron a look before edging away from his mother. Narcissa eyed him from head to toe. It was nice to know some things didn’t change. Draco made sure to nudge Ron in the arm as the three rushed from the prying eyes of their mothers. 

“Smooth, Weaslebee.” Draco huffed.

“Not my fault-”

“Kind of exactly your fault, Ron.” Harry laughed, nudging Ron. Draco whipped around, ready to drop something snarky on the both of them when Lucius Malfoy took the stage. Draco’s whole body went still. It had been… so long… His father looked so… healthy! Lucius Malfoy looked spry and healthy and excited. Smirking down at the crowd, Lucius locked eyed with Draco and Draco felt his hands shake. 

“I know the evening is still young, so we thought it best to get the awards out of the way. Before the minister has too much to drink, that is.” The crowd laughed as all eyes turned to the minister raising a tall glass and heartily tossing it back. “As always, we congratulate the 7th years on their successes in hopes of motivating them for the future. I would like to start off tonight with my son… Draco Malfoy.”

Draco flinched at all eyes turning to him. Had it not just been the day before, all eyes were on him. They all stared as Voldemort held out a hand for him to walk forward. He could see it before him like a photograph. Playing right behind his eyes. His father’s smile was gentle, less evil than that of Voldemort. But the feeling drug it’s nails through his insides as he tried to smile around the room at those staring. 

“Draco Malfoy has been crowned Head Boy, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and has a bright future as an Auror ahead of him!” Cheers erupted around him, and Malfoy tried to smile. He tried to take in their thanks, smiling weakly as Ron and Harry slapped him on the shoulders. Except he felt panic fill him. Images of the war filling his mind. Images of him. Voldemort, playing with them like pawns. 

“He’s not here… he’s not here…” Draco muttered under his breath as other men and women took the stage. Harry and Ron were a step ahead, cheering and throwing fists in the air wildly. Draco trembled through his suit as he backed up through the crowd. He needed air… he needed-

“Whoa there… Draco, are you alright?”

Draco’s eyes snapped up to the voice. Iris Martin stood just inches from him, hands out just inches from touching him. She hesitated, her face twisted in worry. “I’m fine.” He spoke through gritted teeth. 

“Come on, let’s get some air. It’s crowded in here.” She whispered, looping arms through his and dragging him swiftly from the room. It felt like an eternity until they were out of the crowd and through the doors. Draco didn’t realize he was breathing heavy till he could hear it. He was heaving for air, nearly collapsing down upon the ground as they escaped. Only Iris’ grip on him kept him on his feet. She let him down after rounding two corners, and letting him slid down against the wall. 

“I’m… Iris-”

“Draco, I know a panic attack when I see one. Are you alright?” Iris knelt down, kicking off her heels to sit beside her. Draco and her sat in silence as he heaved. It was odd. Draco never felt panic this intense before. It took over his lungs and drug him down. Like fingers on his insides, yanking at him till he was against the ground or lower. He tried everything he could to stop it, but it only gave up in inches. 

“No.”

“Okay, well then, we can just sit here, till you are.” She smiled, folding her legs under her long skirt. Draco watched her, just sitting there, looking up towards the ceiling. He said nothing as she took in the architecture around them. It was nice, to just have quiet. After the day he’d had, it was everything he wanted. Just… a moment… to breathe, and digest everything. Because this life was completely different than the other.


	3. Head Boy Requirements

Chapter Two: Head Boy requirements

“There is a list?” Draco cocked a brow, looking over the massive stack of papers that now stared at him from across his father’s office. Waking up was growing easier now in this house. His home, that was not the fortress of a monster anymore. It was the Malfoy manor now. Draco woke to his father calling for him. He rushed downstairs, dressing himself as he moved. He was in the office for only a second when a house elf handed him a cup of tea and put a plate of breakfast onto the desk. Lucius lingered on the other side, palming through some of the papers. 

His father looked healthy and full of life, it was such a change. To see him smirk at his son, handing him over the papers. Telling him this massive stack of papers were for him. “It came this morning. Dumbledore expects you to keep ahold of it. All of your duties as head boy, all of the classwork requirements, excetera. Remember when you became prefect?”

“Yes, but the prefect paperwork was much… less… big.” Draco let out a sigh, stepping in. He took a swig of his tea, setting it down. He popped a grape into his mouth as he took up the papers from his father. Instructions on what Head boy meant. Saying where his room was, what his schedule would be, what he was to do on special occasions, all of it. 

“Did they tell you who is Head Girl?” Draco asked. 

“That Hermione Granger girl,” Lucius sighed, shaking his head. “I would have rather had Miss Parkinson, but what can you do? Dumbledore has a soft spot for the gryffindors.”

Draco smiled as his father took up his cup. Granger was head girl? It wasn’t too far off from what he imagined. She was certainly brainy enough, bossy enough. She was the kind of girl to demand people do as she say. That mud- No… no… not that word. Never use that word again. That was a word he used. That stain on your memory would never have to come back to destroy the world. That word didn’t matter anymore. Especially if she was head girl. Then she definitely would not stand for him calling her that. Would she ever be called that word if Draco never did?

 

“Father?” Lucius looked up from his morning paper to Draco. “Are you…”

“The proudest father there is? Of course I am. My son, you do not have to ask anymore.” Lucius laughed, stepping up. He put a hand to Draco’s shoulder squeezing it. “I know you kept asking if I would still be proud, even if you didn’t get Head Boy, and the answer is yes. Draco… seeing the man you’ve become… Go on, You have a lot of material to read. And if both of us skip breakfest, your mother will strangle us both.”

Draco let out a small laugh, taking up his papers and the plate. That’s when Draco stopped to see Dobby, holding his cup. “Master Draco, will you be joining the lady of the house?”

“Yes… thank you Dobby.” Draco blurted out, staring wide eyed. 

Lucius never put the journal in weasley’s cauldron. She never opened the chamber of secrets. Dobby was never freed. He stood there, cocking his head to the left at Draco. “Is Master Draco, alright?”

“Yes, yes, fine,” He pushed on, holding the papers against his chest tightly. There would be no journal. There would be no lord Voldemort. He killed him. Draco repeated that to himself as he came around the bend of the house and walked inside the dinning room. Narcissa sat at the table, sipping her tea softly, a book floating before her. She flicked her finger and a page turned. When she saw Draco, she perked up. 

“Oh, there you are.”

“Sorry, my papers for Head Boy came in.” Draco apologized. He stopped to press a kiss to his mother’s temple. Then he sat down at the round table with furrowed brows. “Did… we… change tables?”

“Oh, yes, sorry for surprising you. I hated that long table, and with… it just being your father and I after you gradulate from Hogwarts, I figured a smaller table would be better. Allows me more room for parties and dancers. … should someone bring home a nice young lady?”

Draco let out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Mother-”

“Look, I know that you wanted to focus on your studies, but … well.. Your father and I were married right out of school. I just want you to be happy and healthy and married to a good-”

“Mother!” Draco sighed, “If I promise to try and date… someone… will you not bring this up again?”

“A good choice, is all I ask. That you try. Your classmates are the most likely choices, as they are your age and talent and live nearby. Please… no gryffindors. Your father and I love you, but that… that would be asking too much.” His mother sent him a playful wink, raising her tea glass up to her lips. Draco shook his head, a sigh falling from his lips as he put the croissant into his mouth. He chewed it softly as he looked over the papers. This was much more than prefect. Because Head Boy and Head girl had far more work than just keeping kids from mischief. He never realized what they actually did. 

He was halfway through the second buttery treat when the door opened. “Master Weasley and Misses Weasley.”

“Ah, Molly, I hope my owl did not reach you too early?” Narcissa rose to hug Molly Weasley softly and kiss both her cheeks, Molly reciprocating.

“Of course not, Narcissa dear. Arthur and I were headed into town today anyway. Will Lucius be joining us?”

“Afraid not. The ministry asked for his help with yet another problem.”

“For a man whose only job is the protection of Hogwarts, he sure does help the Ministry alot.” Arthur teased with a bright smile. The door opened behind them, Lucius sliding past them. 

“Sounds a lot like someone else we know, doesn’t it darling?” Lucius retorted, shooting a smirk to Arthur. Arthur let out a laugh, walking up after Lucius through the swinging doors into the kitchen. Draco blinked, rubbing his eyes after that. His father… and Arthur weasley? They looked… chummy… like friends. Draco almost fell out of his chair. It was one thing for his mother to talk and interact with them. The weasley’s, despite being blood traitors, were purebloods after all. And his mother enjoyed being surrounded by other mother’s. But his father? Arthur liked… muggle things… and his father..

They came out the kitchen, laughing and talking lowly to each other. “Draco? It’s rude to stare.”

He jumped and looked to his mother. “They’re friends?”

“Well, of course they are. They’ve worked together before, and you would think after being at so many dinners, they would need someone other their wives to talk to.” Molly chuckled, hands on her hips. “Are those your head boy papers? Ronald’s been buzzing about it since last night. But don’t let my boy get away with any rule breaking, alright Draco? I know you three can get into a load of mischief if unwatched.”

“Oh? Mischief huh?” Narcissa laughed, looking to Draco.

“I have no idea what Mrs. Weasley is talking about.” Draco stated, putting up his hands in defense. 

“Of course not.” Narcissa and Molly laughed. Narcissa stood, dusting off her gown and closing her book. 

“Draco, darling, please pack your things up. I do not want to rush off to the train station tomorrow.” Draco let out a small laugh but nodded. “Do you need anything from the market?”

“No… I’m fine.” He shook his head, going back to his paperwork. Soon the two mothers and Arthur Weasley slipped out of the dinning room, leaving Draco alone with his father. Lucius Malfoy stood near the table, browsing over a folder in his hand. A quill and two other folders floated near him. 

“Father?” Draco looked up to Lucius, seeing the ministry seal upon the folders. “Why do you work with the ministry?”

“Well, in your third year, I realized I wanted to do more. Arthur has always blabbed about giving back and helping out. I was already governor of Hogwarts, but after discussing it with your mother… I was missing something. Your mother says I was bored.” Lucius smiled down at Draco. “A man needs a purpose that drives him to be greater, my son.”

Draco smiled, his heart warmed, seeing his father browsing over a new folder, stacking the other on the table. His eyes fell back down to his papers, skimming it once more. The thought of his father wanting to help, the idea he was driven to be a good person. It was… 

“And besides, those dimwits in the auror’s office could use a swift cane to the knees sometimes. That’s what I mostly do.” Lucius let out a small snicker, putting all folders on the table. Draco rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself. Now that, sounded more like his father. “Well, I’m off. Please do as your mother requested and pack. I swear, Potter has been such a bad influence on you.”

“Father!” Draco huffed, looking up to Lucius. His father smirked, taking up his folders and the newspaper, leaving the room. Draco watched him leave. His eyes resting on the doorway. No other sounds in the house but his own. The last day or so were a whirlwind of new information. It was hard to digest, but it was growing easier. Overnight, his memories filled with new images. Meeting Potter at the train station. Lucius and James having terse words, but Harry and Lily wanted nothing more than to be friends. Narcissa and Lily began talking as Molly rounded the corner with the whole pack. 

Draco blinked as he realized… he couldn’t remember… how he met Harry Potter the first time. His memory was… Oh no! Draco burst from the table, sliding out of the dining room and towards one of the many libraries in the house. The one on the west wing was Severus Snape’s favorite. It was dedicated to potions. There were many things and ingredients stuffed in drawers and chests within it. As he skidded into the room, he felt new memories fall into place. Sitting on the train, laughing and teasing weasley about their new home bought over the summer. Right next door. Weasley and Potter, as always, were thick as thieves instantly. But Draco, he was right there. Challenging Potter to everything and anything. 

Granger walked up to the door… No! NO-No-no he couldn’t forget. He needed to remember. What if something important came up. He couldn’t lose them. How could he fully appreciate this new life, if he did not know the old one? What if… No… he was gone, but that knowledge should never be forgotten. 

Draco burst into the library, jumping around for anything. Something!-

“Master Draco?” 

“Dobby!” he whirled around, looking to the house elf. “Help me, quickly…”

“Of course master, any-”

“Draco… please.” He gritted his teeth. Dobby’s eyes lit up like a candle, his face bursting into a smile. 

“Of course, Draco.” He rushed up to Draco’s legs, looking up wide eyed. “What is wrong?”

“I am forgetting… important things I need to remember. Is there anything to … store them. Like a file, to store my memories?”

Dobby’s face lit up as he nodded vigorous, motioning for Draco to sit in a large office chair. Draco planted himself quickly. Dobby moved to collect empty vials around the room. He moved to stand on a desk near Draco. “Think of the thing… you wish to remember. To keep.”

And so Draco forced himself to relive the worst parts. The most important, worst parts of his life. Those parts became silver liquid that fell into vials upon the desk, filling them whole. Images of meeting Voldemort for the first time, the dark mark, all the research, the dark days in the library, helping the death eaters, all of it. The things he never wanted to remember but knew… it would be unwise not to.

“Where does Draco want these memories?”

“Hidden, where only you and I can find them. And only you and I can know.” Draco shot a look to Dobby, who looked to the viles. Full of memories, full of thoughts, out of his mind. With a snap of his fingers, they were gone. 

“Anything, for Draco Malfoy.”


	4. On the train

Chapter Three: Train Ride

“There you are.” Harry stepped into the cabin as the train lurched forward. Draco managed to smile at him before turning to look back out the window. A sigh escaped his lips as he watched the train chug through the station and out onto the tracks. Long valleys and trees filled his eyes before he heard Harry clear his throat. Midway through putting his suitcase above, Harry stared down at Draco. He leapt up instinctively to shove the suitcase in. Every year they packed more and more to go with to the castle. Draco brought a whole trunk and suitcase, it seemed Harry did too. “Mother or father?”

“Huh?” Draco cocked a brow as he sank back into the cushions of the cabin. This was the first time he did not bunk with the slytherin’s on the trains. It felt strange to settle into a cabin alone. No crabbe or goyle making noise around him, no Theo or Blaise in competition to know more than the other. No Daphne or Pansy bitching about one thing or the other and asking his opinion on something he didn’t listen to. Draco did not even see them as he climbed aboard and settled into the first empty cabin he found. 

“The reason for the look. Did your mum or dad say something this time? You become a melancholy twat when they say something dumb.” Harry retorted. Draco rolled his eyes, one leg propped up and over the other and eyes back out the window. “Are you going to straight reading poetry and lamenting on your existence next?”

“Have you completely lost all sense of mind.” Draco snapped.

“Oh! He talks!” Harry teased before he flopped into the seat across from Draco. He kicked at Draco’s propped foot once. Draco tore away from the trees to look at Harry. “Seriously, what is it?”

“This head boy… thing.” Draco lied so effortlessly it left his stomach in his shoes. Some talents can’t be erased from history. He frowned and looked back to the window. “I would have thought you took the mantel?”

“Are you mental!” Ron laughed. Both boys ripped to see the red head stagger inside. He flopped a bag onto the seat and sunk down next to Draco. “McGonagall would run him through with a broom then turn him into a snake before she allowed Dumbledore to choose Harry.”

Draco’s lips twitched as he looked back to Harry. Two slaps to Ron’s knee and a flick to Ron’s nose, Harry and Ron broke into a fit of hand slaps and choppy laughter. Draco chopped a hand between them and forced them to focus back on him. Atleast Harry’s true nature, his inability to stay out of trouble, still followed him even in this life. 

“Do you not want to Heady boy?” Harry sighed, leant back in his seat cushion.

“Of course I do! I… I just…” Draco trailed off. He folded his hands in his lap. “I just feel off. Like my life is this illusion and I will wake up to a reality… much worse than this.”

Harry’s face softened, he leaned forward and placed a hand on Draco’s shin. Ron swiveled to look him in the eye with concern. “Well it’s real, mate. You’re head boy.”

“I know your dad’s been hard on you to be perfect but, Malfoy, seriously, you’ve earned this. Top marks, captain of slytherin quidditch, and now head boy.” Harry whispered with a squeeze. Draco smiled and nodded. The boys fell silent for a long moment. Draco lamented over how sour he made the mood so fast. Until a flash of people passed the cabins and a familiar friz of hair popped into the doorway.

“There you are Malfoy, Professor Lupin wants us to have a meeting with the prefects here on the train. We’ve got duties starting now.” Hermione stated point blank. Then her eyes snapped to Ron then to Harry with distaste. “Weasley, Potter, I don’t suppose either of you want me to just tack on detention now.”

“Whoa! We haven’t done anything!” Ron huffed. Draco eyed the two of them. Granger rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorway with arms crossed. Frizzy hair pulled back behind a red and gold headband, a light scratch upon her cheek and left hand obviously from a cat. 

“Yet.” she scowled.

“Granger-”

“Don’t defend them Malfoy.” Hermione snapped, her eyes sharp on him. “They cost us the house cup the last three years in a row.”

“Well, to be fair, you helped them the first year.” Malfoy blurted out with a grin. Hermione glared and whirled on her heels. With a flounce she was gone. The memories, this life’s memories lingered at the back of his eyelids as he watched her leave. Hermione and Harry caught in the room of requirement with Ron trapped to the ceiling, by Draco. Harry and Ron followed after the mystery, tried to find it, and stumbled across it. Only Ron was trapped in a magic venus fly trap like cloth and dragged to the ceiling. Harry couldn’t find anyone else but Hermione to help get him down. Draco may or may not have overheard the two talk about it and follow them late into the night. 

Draco and Ron had been neighbors for a long time, and were summer friends but not close. Harry and Ron attracted each other like magnets, and were thick as thieves, which Draco hated. Until they spent a night in the dungeons, scrubbing mold and mopping up after fang as Hagrid watched over them. 

Then the trio was a quad… until Hermione changed.

Draco furrowed his brows. The information was in his head, and suddenly, the memory of his real life seemed blurry. Thankful that Dobby took his memories and stored them in viles, so even if he couldn’t, he had them. A paranoia filled him that he might need them, even just a smidgen. Call it the paranoia of a slytherin who lived in a war of information and torture. 

“I hate that I like her.” Ron scowled.

“You like her?” Draco sneered.

“Granger’s a twat, but she’s a pretty twat. A beautiful bratty, know-it-all, twat.” Ron sighed, his eyes watched out the doorway that she left open. Draco’s lips twitched up, risen to his feet.

“I’ll inform Granger of your opnions-” Draco jumped away from hands that flew at him.

“A boy has to have dreams.” Harry teased as Draco lingered in the doorway. “What about you and Iris?”

“Iris is nice.” Draco coughed, his throat suddenly tight. His mind went right back to the party. Sat next to her, back to the cold wall, both eyes up at the vaulted ceiling. She babbled and smiled, told stories until his panic subsided. Then they stayed there for a long time, and just talked. Iris Martin smiled at him sweetly and looked him in the eyes. 

“Just nice?”

“Well she’s not a bratty, know-it-all, Twat.” Draco shot at Ron who pouted.

“Stuff it, Malfoy.”

Draco grinned as he stepped out of the cabin. The hallways were full of noise but no bodies. One step into the hall and he was back. The train full of screams as cabins were ripped open. Children were tossed out and their bags ripped open. Deatheaters filled the cars fast and used stinging spells on everyone. Even those who obeyed. Draco stood deathly still as his eyes fell to a small first year. Pain etched into their face as they were drug by their hair across the floor. Tears stained the carpets of the train, hands clawed at the walls as they were searched and attacked. Grim looks of despair filled his brain. 

“Draco?” 

Draco whirled with a gasp, his back planted to the wall of the hallway. Iris stood there, broken hand, slashed eye, bloodied school uniform. But when he blinked, it was all gone. There stood Iris, eyes wide and concern, not bloody nor disfigured. His lungs tightened but the memory faded from sight. She reached out slowly, just an inch away from his bicep, and stopped. “Iris.”

“Are you… alright?” She swallowed as she stepped up and put her hand to his bicep. He tensed up, his shoulders almost to his ears. Until she rubbed his arm in soothing circles and stood just an inch from him. “Are the panic attacks getting worse.”

“That… was not..” He swallowed before he shook his head rapidly. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re a terrible liar.” She giggled softly. She took her hand away to ruffle through the small satchel she carried on her shoulder. Draco let out a small snort and rolled his eyes. If only she knew the truth. Then she pulled out a small wrapped chocolate and put it into his hands. “Eat it, it’ll help.”

“Chocolate?” Draco teased.

“Don’t mock me, Draco Malfoy.” She huffed, both fists to her hips and a stomp of her right foot. “Of the two of us, who is interning with Madam Pomfrey and has studied from healing texts since first year? I’ll tell you, it’s me. Now eat the chocolate, before I pop it in your mouth like the toddler you are.”

Draco’s eyes shot open wide. Iris’s mouth fell open and her hands dropped to her sides. They stood in shocked silence, neither able to speak. Until Draco snapped to life and unwrapped the chocolate before he shoved it in his mouth. A wide grin spread on Iris’ face. 

“Thank you,” She put her fists back to her hips, her shoulders back with confidence. Draco swallowed the milk chocolate before he took a deep inhale. “Better?”

“If I say no, will you force feed me more chocolate?” Draco whispered, a smirk grew on his face without permission. 

Iris laughed, “Only if you like that kind of stuff.”

Draco shook his head, but he still felt infinitely better. The memory wiped clean from his eyes. Iris situated the satchel on her other shoulder before she looked back up to Draco. He eyed her jeans that had cuts along the knees and green stains along her shins and knees. She had a white blouse over a camisole tucked into her waistband, little silver butterflies clipped her hair back behind her ears. “And where are you off to?”

“I have hufflepuff business to attend to.” She lied through her teeth, her eyes shifted down the hall. Draco enjoyed the blush on her cheeks. “I thought your duties of spying on mischievous students didn’t start till we arrived?”

“Are you mischievous now?” He teased, she turned so that her shoulders were to him. Draco crossed his arms. 

“I could be. Hufflepuff’s can be very mysterious and mischievous.” She tossed over her shoulder as she continued down the hall. 

“Of course.” He laughed before he jumped to stride along side her. His long legs made it easy to not only keep up, but to jut in front of her and cut her off. “And my duties as Head Boy started the minute I entered the train.”

“Damn, I will have to put my prank on the back-burner then.” she faux sighed and put her hand to her forehead to dramatically sigh. “What ever will I do.”

Draco watched her as she twirled and sighed louder. Then she looked to him with a bemused smile and dropped her hands. He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as she crossed her arms and cocked out a hip. Then she reached down to her satchel and flipped it open. She retrieved a multitude of bags of cookies. “Baked treats?”

“I promised certain first years last year that if they passed their exams, I would bake them their favorite treats to eat on the bus this year. I’m a hufflepuff of her word.”

And Draco couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him as she tucked the cookies back into her bag. Because he murdered Voldemort, Iris Martin became an actual saint. She baked cookies and treats for young students, she was to intern with madam pomfrey. If anything, this proved no matter what, he had to do this. It was what was for the good of man. So people like Iris could be the people they were meant to be. 

“Well, then go on, sugar fairy, deliver your goods.” He teased, and Iris beamed. She brushed past him on purpose, her shoulder gentle against his arm. 

“Thank you, Head boy Malfoy.”


End file.
